Where The Past Becomes His Future
by iwoebegone
Summary: HP/SS: Harry Potter is content as John Smith - can't Severus Snape see that? Or can the man see him more than Harry even sees himself? Set after the war. Mild slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter Franchise is owned by JK Rowling and her associates. I take no profit from publishing this story as its one and only purpose is to amuse me and this fiction's readers at no tangible cost.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 1<strong>

"One caramel macchiato, please."

"Your usual, sir? Coming right away!"

'Most peculiar. I feel like I've done this before. Well technically I have, but that's beside the point.'

In an indistinct side cafe in suburban Texas, a young man of early twenties stood before the shop's counter ordering his usual morning cup of jo. All was of the mediocrity – the scene, the people, the food – everything was in its proper place, nothing out of the ordinary. John Smith, the person who just bought the coffee and the epitome of blandness, just cannot help the feeling that something was not right however.

And the reason for that was coming at him at an alarming rate.

"MOVE!"

Barely having time to look at where the sound was coming from, John dodged to the left, effectively sending himself sprawling on the floor as a cart full of overly large pot-like containers of _something _rammed on the counter just where he stood a second ago, a man attached to its handle. A man that, heaven forbid, was bleeding and seemingly dead.

"Call 911!" someone screamed overhead. Maybe it was the cashier girl, though any other was good too. John just thanked the person who acted immediately because he sure as hell wasn't in any position to do anything but gape. And on the side, scream. In all the commotion the man was able to turn his head in the direction of John and stare at him with empty black beady eyes.

He knew that man.

And his head was splitting open because of it.

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><p><em>Reviews are very much appreciated!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"This man has no identification! Are you sure he isn't some scoundrel playing for pity by ramming himself against a café counter to get some food in his belly?" The incredulous accusation could be heard over the din.

Shuffling of feet, banging of metal objects, squeaking of wheels and various voices could be heard from the town's well-off hospital. Not many patients were in at the moment, so it was not surprising that the residents of the establishment were paying close attention to the two injured men who came an hour ago from a commotion in a nearby café. In fact two doctors were conversing rather heatedly about one man in particular, and John knew he was not the one being talked about. He quite doubts he would be called a 'scoundrel playing for pity' when he was a regular of the hospital's services and paying for them, and rightly so.

"I'm sure he's not some street person, doctor! He seems enough fed, despite appearing as only being on the verge of it. He must be some poor abused man like John! Aside from his wounds, he has burns and cuts on him that was surely not from the crash alone. Look at his chest! There are various marks on them that I'm hard pressed even the strongest of men cannot get from just banging against smooth barriers!" A shrill feminine voice answered.

John was lying down on a hospital cot too familiar for his tastes for the past hour and listening to the heated exchange for half of that time. He would have liked to pretend unconsciousness some more but even he, in the same words used by the doctor, was _hard pressed_ to listen to any more of their useless drivel. 'Besides, I already know who he is, what of his scars, and first and foremost_ why_ Severus Snape is here in Texas.' He cleared his throat. It had the desired effect.

"John, dear! How are you feeling?" The feminine voice exclaimed even as the owner of the voice came closer to inspect her supposedly newly awakened patient. John sighed but opened his eyes; it was Dr. Smith, his personal physician and honorary mother. She was a stately woman of her early fifties, short, caring but strict. She was the one to find John all those years ago- best not go there. John spoke seeing as Dr. Smith was looking at him as if expecting an answer.

"I'm fine, Dr. Smith. I don't even know why you're keeping me here. I wasn't even hit. Or so I think." John thought back to the incident earlier. It was hazy aside from his screaming and a deep blank gaze. John involuntarily shuddered. "What happened?"

Dr. Smith was looking at him weirdly but nevertheless answered his question. "You were brought here by an ambulance after the cashier girl at the café you frequent, called. You and a man were rushed in the ER, he being in a much worse condition than you. I decided to keep you under watch despite no outward injury because someone said you screamed and after a short while, fainted." She paused. She looked at him in the eyes probingly. "Do you know this man?" Then she stepped aside from his cot and moved to the curtain beside him, dragging it away to reveal what was behind.

John's breath caught in his throat.

'It's like Nagini's bite all over again…'

Involuntarily, John sat up and left his bed to approach the frail looking man lying on the pristine white sheets of the common hospital cot opposite him. Severus Snape looked like after the greatest war in the Wizarding World ended, looking almost lifeless except for the discreet rise and fall of his chest, his head almost totally bandaged with wisps of ebony hair escaping, his neck and chest covered with gauze and John can imagine other parts of the injured man's body also in the same state healing underneath the sheets. 'He looks like hell warmed over.' John mindlessly brought his hand to the other man's, surreptitiously touching the lithe fingers as he regarded the sallow, relaxed face. He thought.

'Why is he hurt? I thought he was dead. Why did he even have cauldrons with him? How did he find me?'

"John? Who is he?" Dr. Smith brought him out of his reverie, sounding both curious and exasperated at his long deliberation of Snape. 'She must be itching to solve this man's mystery. Well good luck to her for even I don't know him fully.' John made to answer her, no matter how vague it was supposed to be, his whole body turning to face her when suddenly the hand atop Snape's was seized abruptly as if in desperation, making him turn back and look at the previously sleeping man in mixed alarm and concern.

"Snape?" John's voice broke. Looking at the face of the man he was met by such a smoldering stare that his voice caught in his throat for the second time that day. There were so many emotions running through the black depths that John found himself getting dizzy just by looking at them. Snape just kept looking at him. Finally, one settled longer than the others that John recognized. 'Relief? He is relieved to see me?' If that was not confusing enough, slowly, oh so slowly, Snape's mouth stretched upwards, showing yellow crooked teeth in a genuine smile.

"Harry."

Then the black eyes fell shut again, the grip on Harry Potter's hand loosening.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"_Harry."_

'He called me Harry.'

John Smith was lying on his bed in 8 Publace Corner after he was announced 'fit to leave' by his erstwhile private doctor and voluntary mother at the hospital just a few hours ago. He was currently pacing the length of his spacious bedroom, his steps going back and forth from the front of his door to the wall opposite it. His strides were taut and jerky, a sign that John was deep in contemplation. His thoughts were spiraling round and round ever since he got back home. It was putting him into a fit of confused and restless frenzy.

'I think she kicked me out because of the strange tableau Snape and I made after his momentary awakening to the land of the living. I feel that I should be grateful for her intervention, he _was _looking at me like I was his long-lost lover, but I can't help but think that something big happened to him, happened _there, _for him to gaze and to call me by my real given name like that. Adding the fact that he seemed to have come from bloody _nowhere_ in an injured state while pushing a cart full of substance-filled cauldronstwo hours before that, I'm almost sure of it.'

John paused, both in thought and movement. He sighed, weary all of a sudden as he crashed down on his king-sized bed, the cerulean cotton covers underneath him accentuating his raven hair and mussing it up even more than usual.

'Blimey, one word from Snape and he's got me both confused and worried at the same time. He surely is one hell of a task maker, even without the potions work.'

As he pondered about his situation, John was forced to remember all that had happened before his stay here in Texas – before his self-imposed exile from the Wizarding World, almost seven long years ago. He was known as Harry Potter then, the Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater of Voldemort and Savior of the Wizarding World. He was truly sick of those titles, monikers that he despised ever since he was young; they were names he did not feel he deserved. He was not the only one who defeated the Dark Lord, he thought; he had help from his friends, colleagues, acquaintances and even once-enemies, Draco Malfoy and Snape included. After the war, he expressly announced as so.

He remembered that faithful day like yesterday. He thought that he would be finally heard, his words be heeded at last after all that he had done for the world who cared so little for him. How utterly wrong he was.

_It was a fine sunny day, a week after the legendary war of the century. People were still rejoicing, partying in light of the Dark Lord's fall, and it looked like it would go on even longer. Shouts could be heard in the streets, laughter let loose freely as strangers hugged each other in their joy and freedom. The noise could even be heard in the Ministry of Magic, but this occurrence was only possible for the hall was quiet save for the low murmurs of conversation and the scratching of quills. The Order of Merlins were being handed out that day. And finally, the person all were waiting for was called to get his award._

_Harry climbed the platform with sure and confident steps, his formal red robes commanding attention as he faced the eager upturned faces of the masses and reporters, the cameras flashes blinding him in their quest to take the perfect picture. Harry was not to be deterred though. He raised his wand to his throat, breathed '_Sonorus' _and spoke in a quiet but swaying voice._

"_Wizards, witches, creatures and the like. The reign of Voldemort-" He ignored their winces on the once feared name and carried on "-has ended, and with it, the terror and destruction the Dark Lord has havocked in the Wizarding World. The time of peace has come at last, after so many years of death and sorrow, of fear and oppression. We are free."_

_He paused, looking at the awe and adoration the people around him wore. They were charmed. Harry continued with more conviction this time, his voice now with passion as he spoke. It was time for change._

"_It is only due, then, that utmost gratitude and praise be given to whom this victory is so precisely owed."_

_He faced a camera by random and began his true speech._

"_Albus Dumbledore is one of those people. He is the brain behind the force. Without him, Voldemort will have been here in my stead, spouting laws both inhumane and illogical, and I the one dead in his place. The Wizarding World would have been plunged even deeper in his dark rule, forever underfoot without light, without hope."_

_He paused, and faced another camera and went on._

"_Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Two brave people who died because of the cause. They chose their world's safety over their own. Remus Lupin was discriminated for being a werewolf, limiting rights that should not have been kept from him. Still, he fought on, making do with what he had and turning his circumstances into something better. They fought for the Wizarding World for they did not wish to see it perish. They were truly wonderful people."_

_A pause. This one was the hardest of all for Harry, but he pushed on._

"_Sirius Black. He fought for a world that had condemned him with crimes he did not commit, not succumbing to the harshness that even the strongest of men break under. True loyalty could be seen in his actions, for he did not do what has been unjustly done to him; instead repaying back hundred times with something that can never be worth the accusations and unfairness he received. He gave his_ life_."_

_Harry spoke of more names after that, some of which were Fred Weasley, Dobby and even Colin Creevey, his voice getting more ardent as he went. Quick-Quotes Quills would have created fire with the parchment if they were to write any faster. Finally, he was down with the last one he would like to thank. The person itself was not present in the ceremony, for he was still bed-ridden because of various wounds, but that hardly mattered. Harry knew the man knew his gratitude without being said. It was the Wizarding population that had to understand it._

"_Last but not least, I thank Severus Snape."_

_A collective gasp could be heard from the audience, then deafening silence. A pin dropping could have been heard. It was like Harry casted a _Petrificus Totalus_ on the masses of people and reporters. Even the cameras momentarily seized their shining and snapping. They were shocked speechless._

"_He is the epitome of courage and strength. He devoted his entire being to the cause, putting not only his life but also his soul on the line. He disregarded his own morals and values for the common good at the price of his own sanity and security. People casted him as the villain, though he is really the true hero. I owe my life to him."_

_The people had gotten over their surprise by then and the murmuring intensified at the end of his controversial public uplifting of the man everyone still thought as a Death Eater. Snape was still treated with distain despite the revelation of the man's true alliance a day after the battle. Harry hoped that even with this small gesture the man's life would become a little bit easier. With that in mind, Harry cleared his throat to get his audience's attention. Now to wrap up his speech._

"_I offer my utmost thanks and this Order of Merlin to them who have made triumph and most especially freedom possible. _They,_ are the true heroes."_

_Boisterous clapping ended his speech, howling and shouts occasionally strewn in. _

_'Finally, they clap for Dumbledore and Sirius. For Remus and Tonks, for Dobby-"_

"_Long live the Boy-Who-Lived!" someone shouted, then everybody echoed it._

_'What?'_ _Harry was confused. They were cheering for him. _Him_, Harry_ bloody _Potter, _who_ explicitly told them just not a minute ago that he was not the one to be praised. Dazedly, Harry left the stage with thumping on his back, shaking of his hands and kissing on his cheeks. Nearby he heard a chippy voice of a woman speak to her companion, her gushing tone full of excitement and adoration._

"_He's so modest! Harry Potter's got my definite vote for Minister for Magic next term."_

_They still did not understand him._

_And on that note, Harry Potter Apparated on the spot, leaving the thousand questions, the accolades and the congratulations, the world who heard what they wanted to hear, forever._

Or so John thought.

It was such a long time ago, the now 24 year old man living as a muggle in a town in Houston, Texas did not expect to be found any more by the people from his past life. For the first few years, sure, he anticipated a world-wide search for him by the Ministry. He went country to country; Alaska to Africa to Zimbabwe. When they did not come, he steadily began staying longer in places he visited, getting more comfortable and finally giving up ever being found as he enjoyed the viesw. Finally, he stumbled upon Texas, and he instantly fell in love with the country. It was a dream coming true for Harry.

He settled down quickly to country life.

Harry changed his name to John Smith, had adventures and the like. He long ago abandoned using magic; first for fear of discovery, but now he just did not need it anymore. It was because of this that when he was in one of his dangerous escapades, he got badly hurt. He incurred broken bones, pierced lungs and all sorts of types of serious complications. John thought back then that it was the end of him. If it wasn't for Dr. Smith, John would have been dead then by now.

Dr. Smith immediately took care of him, not just during his recovery, but also after his healing. It must have looked strange for a 40-something woman to adopt a 19 year old young man, but for the two of them it was so natural, they immediately connected. It was like the single old woman without a family knew what John went through without ever asking him, and John was thankful for that. Dr. Smith gave John love, care, and a home.

They've been a family ever since.

John looked at his surroundings as he mused over those wonderful memories. His quilt, hand-made by her, draped over the foot of his bed. Their joint-effort in an abstract painting, proudly hanged on his wall. The freshly made laundry placed on the chair of his desk. They were little evidences of their familial bonding together. Never having a family before, he was happy living here.

Here, in Texas, not in London where people expected more from him that the mischief he was capable of doing.

Which brought him back to his earlier dilemma.

With a growl, John sat up and left the bed to approach the mirror on the back of his dresser. He inspected his reflection.

'I look so much better now, healthier than when I was living in that world.'

His hair was the same bird's nest as his teenage years. He grew a little taller with the proper feeding he had been getting. He got rid of his glasses and changed to contacts. His face had matured. Consenting to the inevitable, he lifted his fringe and gazed at his forehead. There was still the lightning-shaped scar, forever etched on his skin. John paused in thought.

'If Snape is here to ask me to come back to him, will I do it? Will I leave all these behind for those thick-headed people?' He let go of his fringe and brought his hand down, looking at his hands. They were battle-scarred. He lifted his eyes and looked at his image again, finding confusion and weariness in the reflection of his own green eyes. 'But maybe it's something important. Snape did seem different and so out of character earlier…' He backed away from the mirror and started walking back and forth.

'He _did _call me Harry.'

And so the cycle began again.

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><p><em>Thank you to all who reviewed and put this story in their alerts! You guys give me inspiration. On another note, sorry for the long flashback. I've got to get this scene out of the way as the next chapters will focus more on Harry and Severus' interactions. I hope you guys aren't confused by the 'John' and 'Harry' switching at times. Reviews are very much welcome!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

John was having a bad day.

"_John! _Get down here and talk to me!" a muffled feminine voice bellowed. The Texan accent was heavy in Dr. Smith's voice, and it could be heard clearly through several inches of wood and cement. It could only mean one thing. She was getting seriously concerned.

"Where does she even get these ideas...?" John grumbled.

Scratch that. He was having a _very _bad day.

Late morning sunlight bathed John's bedroom, its bright intensity accentuating the disorder it was currently in – the floor strewn with various pieces of clothing, the bed crumpled with the sheets forgotten on the floor, and the figure atop who was groaning from a lack of sleep because of the thoughts frantically running through his head and the overall situation he found himself in. His mother was not helping matters either for as soon as the resident doctor came home late last night, it was like the Spanish Inquisition arrived with deadly swords and bayonets. Though maybe John was to be blamed as well for he chose the coward's way for he did not leave his room since the questions started.

A loud growling sound could be heard in the room. John groaned and sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses and putting it on as he did so. He could not be bothered to wear contacts so early in the morning. Leaving the bed, he pulled on a pair of loose trousers that was lying on the floor and put it on, raking a hand through his nest of a hair as he contemplated what to do. Dr. Smith, or mom as he called him in their home, could not be evaded forever. On one hand, John was not ready to face the proverbial dragon in the face yet. On the other hand, John was _extremely_ hungry, and to go out is to possibly meet a different type of dragon, or maybe snake will be more apt. There was nothing for it. He would have to improvise, and choose the lesser of two evils.

Checking his reflection in the mirror in passing - messy hair, crumpled jeans and shirt, geeky glasses and a thought of 'Eh.' - John approached the bay window near his bed and lifted the closure, stepping out on the fire escape stairs and in the harsh Texan sunlight.

"I need my caramel macchiato stat."

Armed with his morning coffee and bagel, John wandered the streets thinking of his next course of action. The feeling of 'something at work' was nagging on is mind relentlessly ever since his chance encounter with Snape. Walking aimlessly and going from street to street, John came to the conclusion that he would not come closer to solving the mystery of Snape's arrival in Texas with the way he kept overanalyzing the meager information he has and thinking in circles. With that thought in mind he stopped and made to turn to go to the hospital to confront the inopportune Potions Master when he finally registered his surroundings. He was already at the his destination.

'Huh. Seems like I'm still quicker on my feet than with my brain.' He chuckled weakly at the thought. He was already nervous at the prospect of conversing withhis former professor.

Pushing open the hospital's double glass doors, he waved absent-mindedly to the staff who greeted him as he made his way to the Emergency Room, his mind focused more on what he was going to say. Too soon to his liking, he was already facing the open doorway of his goal. With courage he did not feel, John set his face to a neutral expression in the off chance that his target was already awake, his purposeful strides eating up the distance quickly to the Snape's bed. It was a good thing that the ER was deserted of medical staff and other patients for John did not know if he could make it through the conversation with an audience. Merlin knows without one he would already have a hard time talking with the supposedly difficult man.

With equal amounts of trepidation and excitement, John swept the separation curtain aside. What he saw made him gasp.

He knew magical folks heal faster than muggles. He knew powerful wizards and witches heal even faster. But the state Snape was in was ridiculous.

He was fully healed with all the bandages and gauzes gone, the hospital gown he was supposed to be wearing replaced by, surpisingly, a grey pullover and blue jeans. The newly healed man was currenly sitting up, the pillows propped up behind his back and sipping tea while reading the muggle newspaper.

"Bloody hell...?" Words escaped John's lips before he can censor them. Snape immediately looked up. The man's face remained neutral as he drawled.

"Ah, Potter. I see you finally deemed it time to collect my person from this muggle establishment. My mental faculties are degrading every minute I respite with these overbearing healers."

Snape's usual apathetic words seemed to snap John into action. With a shake of his head, he approached the man until he stood directly in front of the bed. He was now more confused than ever. The man who spoke his name last night appeared to have been a figment of John's imagination.

'There's only one way to find out.'

John decided to get some answers.

"Why are you here?"

"Answers. Why did you leave?" Snape fired back.

"Because I couldn't take the Wizarding World's short-mindedness. How did you find me?"

"Magic. Is that the only motive for your immediate departure?" Snape looked like he was trying hard not to show amusement while John was trying hard not to shout at him. 'He's answering with one words! How unfair.'

"Isn't it enough reason to leave? Why were you injured?" At that Snape's face grew passive again, but his eyes were like what it they were the other night; emotions too fast for John to understand, though he could not read his face. 'It's like Hogwarts all over again.' The black eyes settled on emptiness as the man briskly shut the newspaper he was holding and made to leave the bed, snapping at John.

"Reasons. I refuse to participate in this silly questioning game any longer. Let us adjourn. I am tired."

John was about to protest that he was not the man's keeper and that he could not get Snape out without alerting the staff, when footsteps resounded through the door and a voice piped up, familiar and feared - for both men.

"And what do you think you're doing, Mr. Snape? Just because I proclaimed you healed does not mean you are to leave this hospital - meaning this room, without aid! And John dear, come here."

"Bloody healer. Even worse than Poppy in her menstrual cycle." Snape grumbled beneath his breath. John could have laughed in the misery he heard in the silky tones if not for the fact that he was to face the end of his happiness. He could never outright lie to her, and truth be told, John was tired of omissions. Also, this could very well be the last time he can talk to her if Snape's mission is to bring him back. Better come clean to the person who only gave him love and affection. Steeling his features, he approached his mother.

He cleared his throat, both to announce his presence and to remove the annoying lump that seemed to have taken residence in his windpipe.

"Yes?"

Dr. Smith looked at him straight in the eyes piercingly, a weird cunning gleam in her grey eyes as she regarded him. If John was not sure Dr. Smith was a muggle he could have sworn the woman was practicing Legilimency on him.

"Who is he?" She shot out.

"His name is Severus Snape." He answered, his voice inflectionless.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me. I already knew that. Give me some more information! When he woke last night he looked at you like you were his long lost lover. _That_ merits not only his name, but your history together." Dr. Smith put crossed her arms infront of her chest, the gleam in her eyes intesifying as her voice became curious and excited. It was rare that John divulged information about his past for she does not mostly press him to tell her about it, letting him decided when and what to say. Now it seemed, was not one of those moments though. John chose to shut his mouth. He could still delay the inevitable, right?

Dr. Smith's expression did not change.

After ten minutes of silence, John finally cracked. He sighed in resignation.

'Weird though, that we thought of the same exact words to describe the look he gave me.'

He cleared his throat again and looked at her in the eyes as he spoke, his voice measured and careful.

"Severus Snape was my teacher in the school I attended in my younger years. He not only thought me academic subjects, but also about the way of life for, as you know, I was an orphan cared for by my neglectful relatives, and those people did not see fit to teach me the basics." He paused. He was still telling the partial truth. Habit? He made to tell more, and the truth this time, when another voice joined their conversation, the deep baritone warm and lightly curious.

'What? Warm and curious?'

"Excuse me, Dr. Smith, but I cannot help but overhear you two conversing about me. Am I that suspicious of a person?"

'Is that Severus Snape _teasing_?' John was reduced to flapping his mouth open and making side comments in his head.

"Oh no, dear. I was just asking if your history together was good, for I was about to break to John that you are to be staying at our house. I couldn't very well leave you here in the hospital when you've already recovered, no matter how fast that healing took. From what I hear from my son, you seem to have been a good influence on him. You do seem to have so much in common, the speedy recovery, the British accent though his is more Texan now..."

John did not hear his mother's words and Snape's calm replies to her anymore. His brain continued repeating only one thing:

Severus Snape would be staying at Texas, without a clear date of departure.

Staying.

With him.

'What have I gotten myself into?' John thought.

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><p><em>An update! Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I was so tired that I couldn't think straight anymore. I hope I made it up to you guys with this little something. Things are getting interesting! Reviews are welcome with open cyber-arms, though feedback and ideas are even better received. I'm open for suggestions! :D<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Severus Snape connected to Dr. Smith like two birds of the same feather.

After the revealing conversation of a new housemate between John's mother and Snape, and indirectly him, the trio adjourned to Dr. Smith's car and drove home. John felt left out while to two continued to talk, delving into all sorts of topics; him, with Snape referring to him as John, as odd as that was; politics; medicines; weather; him again; and even Snape's supposed cat.

John knew of their areas of discussion in minute detail not because he was interested in them. He was intrigued with Snape's change in attitude. Shelving his questions and befuddlement of the situation in the back of his mind, he avidly monitored the other man's face and emotions while to two chatted, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Topic to topic, it did not happen however. If ever, the man became more engaged and allowed to show an emotion or two. John had to accept as the car pulled into their house's driveway, that the congeniality Snape displayed while conversing with the stately woman was, shockingly enough, genuine.

'Another mystery to the man in black – well he's not really wearing black anymore but that's beside the point…'

John exited the car, thinking of letting Snape's shift to friendliness to his mother slide for the moment as he badly needed to pace his room. There were so much new information since last night, this one more confusing than the first, and there was just so much John can handle without getting into a fit of insanity. It also did not help that he had a massive headache. He walked to the front door while massaging his temples. As he rummaged for the key in his pocket, he noticed two things that he failed to process in his preoccupation.

One, there were no chatter any more, his mom's shrilly voice or even Snape's bass tones.

Two…

'Oh no, don't tell me mom left Snape behind for me to deal with. Please don't…'

Alas, it was not to be John's lucky day as when he looked behind his shoulder, there was the object of his thoughts, standing in all his gloomy glory on the porch looking around at his surroundings, the man's face as bored as hell. And his mother, oh…

She was looking at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

He was cornered and doomed.

'There weren't coded words in their conversation earlier which corresponded to my death. …Right?' John thought, gulping. He quickly stepped through the threshold after opening the door hoping to avoid his mother's obvious plan, a plan he had no doubt was to be at his disadvantage. It appeared his streak of bad luck was prevailing however.

"John, dear? If I could have a moment alone with you, please?" Not waiting for an answer Dr. Smith pushed past John and moved towards the kitchen, saying as she went. "And Severus? Make yourself at home."

Sparing a glance to Snape as the man went to sit on an armchair in the living room without deliberately meeting his eye, John trudged unwillingly behind his mother. He saw her stirring a cup of coffee at the counter. A innoccent enough act.

'Maybe I'm overreacting?' John mused.

"John, tell me the truth. Are you and Severus past lovers?" Dr. Smith said without preamble.

If John was the one drinking the coffee, he would have spewed it at her face, reflex or not. He settled for spluttering like a fish.

"What? No! I may be gay, like older men, like them tall and dark-haired…" John trailed of as his own words sank in. "No! We've never been together, besides he was my teacher before! Nothing could have ever happened between us." John was by then hissing at his mother, his voice low yet urgent in fear of being overheard by the man in discussion in the other room.

"And _now_ you two can be together? You didn't say there wasn't any attraction in your part." Dr. Smith answered, ending her statement with a smug smirk. John was about to demand what his mother's problem was when he remembered one important detail so out of place, that he was surprised he did not notice it before.

'Why is mom so welcoming to Snape? She's amused when I say Snape and I were never together, instead of relieved – the normal reaction of moms because they don't like their children hooking up with their former professors. Not to mention her offering of a place to stay to him… Do they have a history together? But that can't be possible. She asked me who he was last night. Merlin! All this started _last night_ and things are spinning so out of control already…'

"John? Are you okay?" Dr. Smith cut through his thoughts, her tone worried. He looked up to his mother's trusting and concerned eyes and decided to ask her upfront. To hell with finesse. His mother was well aware he was not an expert with that.

"Mom, did you drink anything from Snape?"

'Okay, so maybe I'll not be _totally_ upfront. Snape could have given her a potion. I wouldn't put it past a Slytherin.' He looked at his mother's face closely. Her face scrunched up for a minute, clearly in thought. After a few seconds, she shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something but John beat her to it. He had other hunches.

"What about a spell- I mean a special feeling you got when you were around him last night? A change in attitude so instant you didn't notice it?" John asked again, making unconscious hand gestures of the Imperius Curse. He expected Dr. Smith to think long and hard at this question and nod her head, but neither happened. He was instead scrutinized by the woman he called his mother. John was about to demand what she was looking for at his face when she spoke, her voice calm.

"You know John, the one time I saw you so affected was the day I met you. When you were but a tourist in Texas, you were always so excited and frenzied, like a great spark was lit in you, fueling your every move. As the years passed by, you became relaxed and calm, the spark vanishing, not that I'm saying it's a bad thing. That was until yesterday. I saw the spark came to life again, burning even brighter than the last time when I saw you looking at Severus. Your entire demeanor changed; you eyes lit with emotion, your actions familiar and empowered. Even without knowing him, I know he's important to you, and that's the reason I invited him into our home. That's what you're really asking, am I right?"At the end of her speech, she was back to her perky self, the gleam back in her eyes. John could do nothing but nod at her, a thought wedging its way through his amazement.

'She sure knows me well.'

Dr. Smith patted his cheek lightly, bringing him back to the present. She added.

"And no, I did not drink anything he had, he was the one who drank plenty of them, nor did I feel anything strange except for a plan forming in my head to set the two of you up. Severus seems so interesting, and he is kind of dashing in his own way." Smiling, she passed by him making her way to the fridge. John just shook his head in fondness, though he regretted it immediately. He was about to exit the kitchen, making his escape while his mother was occupied to deal with his headache, when her voice stopped him.

"Be a dear and show Severus to the guest room, alright? A late lunch will be ready in an hour."

Groaning, John made his way to the living room, setting his face in determination.

'Can't have him thinking that just because I had a talk with his new friend and she put to rest my fears of him controlling her that I'd be more relaxed around him.' Snape looked like he didn't move an inch in the armchair, his position the exact same way it was when John left him. As John approached, Snape looked away from a photograph he was looking at on the mantle to face him. The man's face remained neutral, but his eyes were assessing. John was surprised at this.

'Was I was always able to tell his emotions through his eyes?'

Banishing that thought, thinking 'no more additional information until I get my painkiller', John gestured to the stairs. Snape's eyebrow shot up in question.

"Let me show you to your room." John answered in response to the silent question. Snape's eyes widened a fraction. His former professor was the one surprised this time.

At the unconscious display of emotion in Snape's part, the knot of tension in John relaxed. From the reaction John got, the man clearly expected to be ejected from the house after John's talk with his mom. Now John was sure there were no potions or spells involved. Snape would not have cause to be surprised if he did use any of those methods. John chuckled.

"Come on." John said, turning his back and heading to the stairs without waiting for an answer.

The trip to Snape's room was silent aside from John's introduction of the facilities around the house – "bathroom, mom's room…" Stopping in front of a door like the rest of the others, John turned the knob to display a clean but bare room, containing only the essentials, a bed, and a dresser and a chair.

"Your room. This is the guest room, so there aren't so many things in it. If you need anything, extra blanket or whatnot, ask me and I'll get it for you." John turned to leave Snape to his devices when the man spoke.

"Potter."

John sighed. 'I wonder what happened in the expanse of time between last night and this morning. He called me Harry before.'

"John." He said instead.

"What?" Snape smartly answered.

"If you must call me by any name, I insist you call me John." John said, turning to face Snape. The man looked at him for a long time, his eyes narrowing as he considered. Finally, the man spoke.

"I concede. You have substandard taste in aliases, John."

John fought back a smirk. 'A battle won.' He said instead.

"Yes, Severus?" This earned him another eyebrow arch. "It's obvious I'd call you Severus now because you're going to call me John. It's only fair." He said cheekily.

"I do not know why I keep consenting to these absurdities. Agreed, you may call me Severus. Merlin knows your mother will find it peculiar for us to regard each other by last names." The man drawled as he sat on his – the – bed. John let his smile break free.

'Who knew it was fun to tease Snape?' John thought.

"John." The voice that cut through John's musings truly was divine. It sent shivers down his spine.

'I am not attracted to him!' John thought vehemently. Keeping the reaction of his body hidden, John refused to show how Severus' words affected him. Instead he said, "Yes, Severus?"

"I will ignore how you appallingly enjoy uttering my name." Then the man crossed his arms in front of his chest. He remembered that Severus called out to him before all this name-teasing began. Leaning on the doorway, he addressed the man again.

"Severus? You had something to say?" Severus' eyes flew up from his inspection of his shoes – they were white Nike walking shoes – to look at him. His eyes were currently displaying turmoil.

'Like last night…' John thought. Severus' eyes settled on some unreadable emotion. 'Huh?'

"Lunch. When is it?" Severus asked.

"In an hour." John answered automatically.

"I will be there. Thank you." Then the man lied down on his bed and turned his back on John. Taking that as his cue to leave, John walked to the hall and to his room opposite, closing the doors as he went.

'Why do I get the feeling like he is thanking me for so much more?'

As soon as John plunked down his bed, he immediately fell asleep. Due to his headache, exhaustion and the day's events, he slept through lunch and dinner. When John finally woke up, it was nearing midnight.

Hoisting himself up from his bed, John put on his glasses and made his way outside his room and to the hall. He was planning kitchen on going to the kitchen to grab something to eat when he heard muffled noises from Severus' closed door. He stopped in front of it and put his ear flat to listen, his curiosity getting the best of him. Despite the physical contact to the door, the noises were too garbled for John to understand.

'What's happening to him? Well, it's not my business so maybe I shouldn't pry…' John thought. He made to remove his ear from the door when the noises intensified. John now knew why he did not understand them.

They were Severus' cries, his voice anguished and hoarse.

Panicking, John reached for the doorknob and turned. It would not open. Severus must have locked it that night. John cursed softly.

'He's having a nightmare! Stupid door!' John was too panicked to think of getting his wand under his bed. Trying the doorknob once more, he unconsciously used wordless and wandless magic. The door came open.

Not stopping to consider his first feat of magic for the past three years, John rushed towards Severus' bed, finding the man trashing about and whimpering in pain. The man's black locks stuck to the man's forehead and face like tentacles trying to suffocate him. His cheeks were splotched with tears both dried and fresh. The man's anguished state forced John into action, his body taking over.

John climbed onto the bed beside Severus' convulsing figure and wrapped his arms around the man tightly. Tucking Severus' head beneath his chin, he began rocking their bodies back and forth while he whispered softly.

"Shush, Severus. You're safe. You're safe, Severus. I'm here. They're no more. You're safe."

Hands clutched his back, his shirt bunching up in the tightly coiled fists as the shaking in the other's body subsided ever so slowly. John did not know how much time passed, but finally Severus calmed down and slept peacefully. The hands did not leave, though the fists uncoiled to rest comfortably against the small of his back. Not having the option of leaving the bed without waking Severus up, John settled on observing the now dozing man.

Time was harsh to Severus Snape. Frown and stress lines could be found in various parts of the man's face, along with some scars that could not be really seen if one does not know where and how to find one. John could not remember some of them from the war, not that he looked closely before mind you. The nose was haughty still, proud and jutting against the man's pallid face. Surprisingly, the man's hair was as black as ever, along with the man's eyebrows and lashes. The equally black eyes that could glare someone to death and, John discovered just recently, could express so much more emotions, were currently hidden behind their lids. Even in sleep, Severus' face showed wariness and anxiety.

Unconsciously rubbing the man's back, John started drifting to sleep, his hunger forgotten. He was just about to be dragged under the spell, when he heard something; words spoken so softly that he was almost sure he must have dreamt them.

"Harry... Don't leave me..."

'Yep, I'm dreaming.'

Then John fell asleep.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the late update, guys! Busy with school and whatnot. Hope I made it up to you with this action-packed chapter. <em>_I would also like to thank to all of those who reviewed and put this story in their alerts! You all empower me. ___Thoughts, comments and suggestions are welcome! I'd very much like to hear your thoughts.__


	6. Chapter 6

"_Look at me…" Severus groaned weakly. _

_Blood. On the floor, on the grounds outside, on his hands – there was blood everywhere. Blood past shed, blood being shed, and blood about to be shed – if Harry only cared to look or even think about the death and carnage that surrounded him, he would have wept, wailed or maybe even screamed. He _was_ the reason of it all, the problem and the only solution, so he should have felt _something, anything_ concerning the war. But at that moment, all those blood and emotions he was supposed to be feeling seemed to pale in comparison. All in the face of those eyes._

_Black, black pools for eyes, staring at him so intensely that the gaze may have penetrated through his eyes and looked unto his soul._

_Black, black eyes pleading, pleading him not to go. Not to leave the man bleeding out his life force alone, forever alone and wishing for that one moment in his life to have someone _there _for him. Only for him._

_Harry ached for that man. He should have felt angry with him for being killing Dumbledore, but he did not. Not at that moment. He did not know why, but those black eyes touched something in him as if connecting him to another kindred soul who understood the entirety of what he had been through, and he would be going through. _

_Severus Snape made Harry Potter feel complete for the first time in his life._

"_You have your mother's eyes…" Severus croaked. He looked like he could have said more, but he stopped and instead tendrils of white substance flowed from all over of Severus' face. Harry was struck speechless, letting Hermione collect Severus' memories, as he found out later. He was too busy being confused at that point to really think about what those essences were anyway. And frightened. And hurt._

_Harry fled with Hermione and Ron after that, hastily casting a Patronus to inform of Snape's condition._

_The scene changed._

_All were white. There was not any blood, only sterile, blinding white besides Harry and black hair strewn about a pillow. Harry was sitting beside an occupied bed, looking upon a sallow face in sleep. He thought he lost that man. The man who made Harry feel complete in the most unlikely of moments. Who, at one point Harry thought, was the most evil person second only to Voldemort. Severus Snape proved to be entirely the opposite, Harry found out through the man's memories; he was the true hero as far as Harry could see, the one who sacrificed so much and gained very little._

_Harry thought it was time to finally shed light on Severus who truly deserved recognition for his efforts. And Harry was going to do just that at the awarding of Order of Merlins that afternoon._

_In his rumination, he failed to perceive the awakening of the man of his thoughts, noticing only when he made to leave and planning on casting one look at the supposedly sleeping man._

_The black gaze struck him deeply once again, freezing him momentarily on the spot._

_Pleading. The gaze was pleading him again not to leave, or so Harry liked to think. It was only then that Harry realized that he really did not know how to react on such feelings. Feeling of completeness, of safety. So he did what he did last time._

_He fled. Again. But at that time, it was for good._

John woke with a start, his forehead drenched in sweat and his fist clenching the sheets beneath him tightly. Upon seeing the ceiling of his home in Texas, his body relaxed minutely. Despite the reassurance that he was not in the Wizarding World anymore, the dream he saw kept replaying fast forward in his mind.

'Well. Not really a dream but more like my memories from before.'

John always told himself the reason he left the Wizarding World was because of the overbearing wizards and witches who kept worshipping him. But the truth was much deeper than that.

And Severus Snape was at the crux of it.

As John opened his eyes and looked around the room he was in, the events of last night came crashing down on him. The noises during midnight, Severus' anguish, and his subsequent response to the man - he had to finally admit to himself that Severus Snape affected him far more deeply than he wanted to. The resurfacing of those memories he have long ago buried and forgotten attested to that.

'Speaking of Severus, where the hell is he…?'

There was a suspicious lack of added body heat on the bed John was lying on. Rolling to his side, he assumed correctly, for it was empty. Even without his glasses on, he knew that.

'And when did I remove them?'

Sitting up, he reached for the blob that vaguely resembled his spectacles and put them on. He will just have to get up and leave the room to find the man. John swung his legs on the edge of the bed and stood up, knuckling his eyes as he did so. What little sunlight that streamed through the curtained windows indicated that it was still early in the morning, about seven in John's estimation. He frowned in confusion.

'What could possibly spurred Severus on to wake up in this Merlin forsaken hour?'

Leaving the room, John descended the stairs silently to the living room, lightening his steps to avoid waking his mother up who probably was still asleep. Upon arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he was assaulted by the delicious smell of breakfast so maybe his precautions were unfounded. Fully expecting to see his mother cooking her usual bacon and eggs, John was totally unprepared at the sight he encountered upon entering the kitchen.

It was Severus Snape holding a frying pan and a spatula, flipping ham by the stove.

John may be unprepared, but he was slowly getting used to the bizarre after two days with the other man so apart from a slight widening of his eyes, he otherwise went to the table and sat on a chair after a second or two of his surprise. He cleared his throat.

"Good morning, Severus."

"Morning. Breakfast will be served in a moment." Came the curt reply to John's greeting, Severus not turning his back or stopping in his movement. John was getting inexplicably nervous.

'I still remember Potions and Occlumency lessons when he treats me indifferently at a moment's notice. Hm. I wonder if he's bothered by what happened last night?' John decided to test the waters.

"Umm, Severus… About last night-"

"Please be so kind as to set the cutlery and such for our meal."

'He_ is_ bothered! Why else will he cut me off?' John thought somewhat triumphantly as he automatically stood up and went to the cupboards to get the plates in response to Severus' order. As John set the table however, the euphoria of figuring something out wore off to be replaced by guilt, discomfort and the ever-present confusion. He felt ashamed and anxious in being happy at another's expense, and bewildered at the cause of the other's anxiety. 'Is he weirded out by what happened?' John was sensitive by nature and he does not rejoice on others' pain, so he concluded on making up to Severus in some way. After all, it was not in his place to come to the other man's room without permission last night and maybe Severus did not want others' help. John was about to apologize when his mother entered the room.

"Good morning, boys! Ah Severus, what delicious smells you're creating! Can't wait to dig in!" Dr. Smith's enthusiastic greeting resonated in the small kitchen. John could not help but notice Severus' wince, of which he could fault for because his mother really was _too _chirpy in the mornings. The other man turned sideways and regarded the only woman in the room with a cool gaze and a lifted eyebrow.

"Morning, Greta. I am hardly a boy, so please refrain from grouping me with your son." That being said, Severus turned back to his cooking, leaving John to fend off his mother amused stare on his own.

"Good morning, mom. Severus is just about finished with breakfast. Please sit down." As if on cue, as soon as John was finished placing the table and Dr. Smith had taken her seat, Severus approached with a platter of an assortment of English breakfast delicacies. John's surprise must have shown on his face because it was only at that time that Severus looked him in the eye long enough to smirk in his direction. If Dr. Smith noticed their exchange she did not let on as she delved on the spread before her.

"My, my! Delicious! You make me curious, Severus. Whatever were you up to before you came here? You cooking may very well be gourmet." Dr. Smith said. Curious as to what Severus will reply to this, I turned towards him with a quirked brow. Severus turned to my mother with a small genuine smile playing on his lips, answering.

"Thank you for the compliment. As my profession delves with skills quite similar to culinary, I have adequate knowledge in the field. Truth be told, it has been quite some time that someone other than myself has tasted my cooking. In a way it is good to know I can still create a decent meal."

'He smiled.' John thought, not following with the conversation anymore. He seemed to get stuck on the vision of the man who he rarely saw with any emotion on his face smiling. Smiling like he was truly happy. 'It lights up his face, making him more striking. I wonder what Severus looks like when he smiles fully?'

"Oh it's not only decent. It's even better than some of the cooking my female neighbors do! Say, what is your profession, Severus, if you don't mind me asking?" Dr. Smith and Severus continued to converse, the dark-haired man replying with a 'chemist' as John contemplated and ate.

'It really is good. But it figures; Severus is a Potions Master. He's bound to be good at cooking.'

Soon enough, the generous spread that Severus cooked was consumed and as John made to stand up and gather the dishes, Dr. Smith walked up to him and whispered in his ear, Severus gone from the room.

"Be so kind and accompany Severus in the house. You're not needed at the hospital today, and he is still recovering despite his healthy appearance. And aren't you guys supposed to catch up after all these years apart?" she murmured, briefly grasping his arm. Reluctantly, the young man acquiesced, the plates in hand as he went to the sink.

"And dear?" His mother added, her voice coming from the doorway.

"Yes?" He answered, already dreading the day ahead spent with the other man.

"It'll be worth it."

"Huh?"

After John took care of the dishes, he exited the kitchen, a tray of tea in hand. He hoped that with drinks in hand there would be less awkward talks between them, as he knew that he was bound to blabber in the other's presence.

'And I have to apologize for last night too.' He found Severus sitting by the porch, looking at the rising sun with a contemplative expression. John hated to break the other's peace, so he settled with placing the tray he held by the coffee table and sitting at the other lone chair available. He poured himself a cup and decided to wait for the other to speak. He did not wait long.

"Harry." Severus murmured, his voice calm.

John gulped. He was called by his real name, which could only equate to something serious. "Yes?"

"Why did you save me, if you were bound to leave me behind?" Severus turned to face him, his eyes smoldering in intensity with emotion.

John was struck speechless. He did not know what to answer. 'What?'

Severus was not finished yet however. "Did you know that soon as you left they threw me out of St. Mungo's? Obtuse people threw invectives at me as soon as I was released, treating me as a pariah and never grateful with what I put and went through to save their sorry hives. Was all I did for naught?" Severus tore his eyes away from his and looked out at the view.

"All those years I raved and loathed you for escaping and fleeing the Wizarding World, for making me put up with the injustices I need not have to receive. I learnt to tolerate it though. After a while, I became only resigned with what Fate, and you, gave me to live with, the rage dying out of me. I brewed and I lived. It was life for me, for a while. That was until I found myself here, with you, and I can finally ask you the very thing that plagues my every day and night. Why, Harry? You could have spared me the ridicule and let me die. I deserve peace. Peace that you have here, it seems." He swept his hand at the view they had, his dark sad eyes following the movement.

"Is it for revenge? Because I assure you, you have won." Severus' voice broke as he whispered, the pain evident in his voice. That broke John out of his reverie, the defeated and quiet words breaching his shock.

"No! The reason I left was not because I hated you. I left, because I hated it there. Hated being treated as their savior, the only savior of the Wizarding World whereas you are the true one to be thanked for and regaled." The part of him that thought of the place he called home before recoiled at the implication of what Severus told him. It only proved that it still not change, the narrow-mindedness still prevailing and rampant. John ached for this man, this man that for once in his life made him feel complete at the most impossible of times. He reached a decision.

Leaning towards the other man, he extended his hand and grasped Severus' arm, squeezing it. Severus faced him once again, his face dull and miserable.

"Stay here with me. Live in Texas. You don't have to go there." John said, his words heated and sure. Severus looked down at the hand on his arm, and after a few seconds, nodded. The young man released a breath he was not aware of holding and withdrew his hand. He felt giddy and happy for some reason. Not helping it, he laughed.

Severus, not understanding it, grew tense and furious, seemingly thinking that all Harry said was a joke because of the mirth in his laugh. He started to stand.

"No, Severus! Don't be angry! It's just, I'm so happy that you accepted, and I can finally start to repay you for all the things that you did for me." By then John's laughter died, to be replaced by a broad smile directed at the other man. Severus, not angry anymore, only lifted an eyebrow, his incredulity apparent.

"And that merits laughing to my face? You, John, are a very capricious person. I had just bared myself to you, had a very serious conversation in fact, and you laugh. Deplorable." But a smile was tugging at Severus' lips.

"Ah, but you love me for it." John shot back, then abruptly clamped down on his mouth. 'What did I say that for!'

"Maybe I do." Severus stood and approached the front door, seemingly at ease. The murmured rejoinder was not lost on John however, and it left him gaping at the other man's retreating back. "Come along, John. You have yet to give me a tour of the house, and it would be welcomed to drive off the boredom that would surely come in a long day like this."

"Merlin's Beard." 'Severus loves me?' John followed Severus inside nevertheless, confusion apparent on his face and maybe a little hope bubbling up inside of him.

* * *

><p><em>Okay, three months of not uploading. I gladly accept the shaking fists thrown my away. I'm sorry. Inspiration has been scarce, and I'm not even as satisfied as I want to be with this chapter. <em>Curse you, ever-elusive motivation! <em>Please bear the abruptness. As always, please review. Give ol' me the push (hard) to continue with this story? _


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

If someone were to tell Harry Potter that one day he would find himself at the company of Severus Snape of his own free will and _enjoy_ it, he would have sent that person to St. Mungo's faster that he could say 'Petrificus Totalus'. As it was, no one did, so he could freely relish on his surprise and wonderment of the moment at peace, with only his sanity in question. He was actually kind of liking it.

"John, please do keep up with me. As much as I question your capabilities on participating in intellectual conversation, I prefer speaking with you than conversing with myself like a lunatic." Severus drawled, effectively cutting in his train of thought.

"Oh sorry, Severus. It's just so strange to be actually speaking with you, instead of shouting my head off like old times."

"_I _find it hard to believe that you find that surreal instead of the more unfeasible feat of going shopping with me for cheese."

"Well that is weirder…"

Soon after John completed the more extensive tour of the house to his unexpected houseguest, his mother called from work and asked him to buy cheese. Yes, cheese. And in that request was the not so discrete order of showing Severus around town. It was how they found themselves in their current situation, walking around amidst throngs of people in the market district.

"Where do we purchase this cheese Greta needs?" Severus said.

"It's somewhere along here-"

"John!"

John was cut-off from his speech by a shout coming from behind them. Stopping and turning around, he spotted Paul Winters, his shaggy dirty blonde hair plastered to his forehead as he jogged towards them. John smiled in recognition when Paul stopped before them, his winning smile already in place despite panting from his exertion.

"Hey, Paul. Fancy seeing you here. I thought you were at the clock shop."

"I was. But I missed you." Paul said, winking suggestively.

"We just saw each other the other day! And even if you missed me, I didn't miss you. It's tiring seeing your handsome face every day." John joked back. Hearing a clearing of the throat, he glanced sideways and saw Severus staring at Paul with an unreadable look on his face. Remembering his manners, he spoke again.

"Severus, this is Paul Winters, my… friend." John stumbled out before continuing. "Paul, this is Severus Snape. He's from the UK like me. He's visiting for a while and is staying at my house." At the last part, John sent a meaningful look to Paul. Paul in return, nodded once. Also, he conveniently left out labeling Severus. He had enough trouble categorizing Paul as it is.

Paul, ever the chirpiest, extended his hand to Severus in greeting and beamed.

"Nice to meet you, Severus!"

Severus, more reserved, shook the proffered hand and answered calmly, his speech almost in a drawl.

"Likewise."

At the unenthusiastic response, Paul looked at John with a 'What's his problem?' look as he relinquished Severus' hand. John, almost sure that Severus was being his usual self, just shrugged in answer. After the non-verbal communication, John cleared his throat and swept his hand forward, signaling his companions to walk. He did not know why, but he wanted Paul to accompany him and Severus.

"So John, you out shopping?" Paul asked, walking a little too close to John as was appropriate.

"Yeah. Cheese. Mom asked Severus and me to buy one for her lasagna. And shove off! You're invading my personal space!" John ordered while laughing at his friend's antics.

"Aww. But I want to be near you as much as I can until I have to go back to work!" Paul teased, slinging an arm around John's shoulders that was made possible by his five-inch high advantage. John in turn weakly tried pushing the arm off, laughing still. Spotting something, John stopped trying taking his friend's arm off in favor of pointing at it.

"Paul, look! Remember last Christmas? Mrs. Rutherford's still hanging the present we gave her!" John said, describing the candy cane-like ornament hanging on the shop's window they just passed. Paul guffawed when he saw it.

"If only she knew what it really is!"

John and Paul would have continued laughing if Severus, who John forgot was there with them in his mirthful recollection with Paul, did not speak with his voice flat and monotonous.

"John, _when_ do we purchase the cheese Greta needs?"

Blushing in embarrassment, John shrugged off Paul's arm and straightened his jacket. He smiled weakly and spoke.

"Sorry, Severus. Just got carried away. We're here actually."

Stopping in front of a shop, John opened the door and walked in, missing the glare Severus sent a smirking Paul when his back was turned.

* * *

><p>The journey back from the shop to John's house was uneventful to say the least, with John now aware of Severus presence the whole way and carefully answering Paul's ribbing now and again with a retort and occasionally a smile. Arriving at his doorstep, John unlocked the door and allowed the still mysteriously silent Severus to go inside first. Only planning on waving goodbye to his friend, he was completely unprepared and unaware on the fierce kiss he received when he turned.<p>

Finally regaining the use of his lips, he looked at the twinkling blue eyes of Paul, his face gob smacked.

"What was that for? Severus could have seen us!" John whispered, blushing.

"It was a good bye kiss, honey. See you later and good luck!" And with a parting wink, the smiling Paul turned and left, his hips sashaying as he walked away.

John just shook his head in exasperation as he walked inside.

"Paul Winters is a _friend_ of yours. I see." John had not even completely stepped in the hallway yet when he was greeted with the smoldering gaze of one Severus Snape. With his heart instantly going into overdrive, he gulped nervously.

"Yes…?" He said meekly, his voice cracking and his sentence ending in a question. 'Where's the courage when you need it!' For some reason, he was scared from the look he was receiving while at the same time completely turned on. 'Stop it! You have no place in this situation, libido!' He thought fiercely.

"You are not certain. _Always_ not certain! Were you not _certain_ when you saved me in the Shrieking Shack? Was that just a whim on your part? I thought you were different. But you are just like your father! Saving people who do not _want _to be saved! I bet he needed _saving _too." Severus was now speaking loudly, his word heated and his face livid as he sneered. John was not sure how the conversation turned in this direction, but he decided to defend himself.

"No! I wanted to save you! And what has that got to do with Paul?" He answered back just as intensely, slamming the door shut behind him as he approached Severus.

"It _all_ has got to do with that boy! You already have him; I am of no use anymore! I wish you did not save me and made me fall in love with you so I could have never known this pain again!"

As instant as Severus' ire manifested, it died out of him just as quick as he crumpled to the ground, his face hidden by his hands, his body shaking. John was struck speechless. 'He really does love me?' Slowly lowering himself in front of the quivering man, he was close enough to hear him as he continued to speak in a whisper, his voice broken and sad.

"I have watched you with him. The potions I was pushing the first time we met again… It was what connected me to you; it allowed me to see how you have been, and what you have been doing all these years, and I saw you were happy. _Are_ happy, with him. I wanted to be proven wrong, so I came. I loved and I hoped, but you really were content. I loved, and it hurts so much…"

John remembered the time in the infirmary when he first felt complete because of this man. This man, this brave man that speaks of love for him, and for some inexplicable reason, he believed him. Before he knew what he was doing, John, no _Harry, _wrapped his arms around Severus, tightly binding him in his embrace as he whispered.

"You don't have to hurt. You loved, and will be loved back. I was content. But I realized, only when you were back in my life that I wasn't really happy before. I am now, though, andtruly _alive _again. I am now happy with you here, Severus. Because of you."

With sure fingers, Harry lifted Severus' chin and softly kissed him.

And it was the best, sweetest and most _fulfilling_ kiss both have ever had.

* * *

><p>Soon after their passionate yet chaste kiss, Severus and Harry retired to the living room, the former now calm enough after his emotional upheaval before. Harry, trying his best to be considerate, refrained from commenting and instead offered his silent support as he sat beside him. He awkwardly cleared his throat.<p>

"Severus…"

"I apologize for my sporadic outburst moments ago. Be assured that it will not happen again, John." Severus said with his face turned away and his posture rigid. Harry decided he would have none of it.

"It's okay. And please, call me Harry again." He spoke, his words firm. This made Severus glance at him.

"Harry? May I inquire why you have chosen to go back to using your name?" Despite what happened earlier, Severus' discomfort seemed to be waning, as there was a slight upturn on the side of his mouth and his eyes were slightly bright. Harry had to snort at that. Severus was laughing at him!

"Stop laughing, you! And I just thought if I had to face my past, might as well use my real name." He then pouted. Severus softened and he reached out to cup Harry's face, his gaze comforting and his presence warm.

"Harry, you do not have to face your past. Just because my demons still haunt me does not obligate you to bear them with me." He said, caressing Harry's cheek.

"I need to face my past, Severus. _You _are in my past, and for you to become my present, I have to acknowledge it. Besides, I want to bear your demons with you. So call me Harry." Harry raised his hand and captured the one on his face, turning slightly to press a kiss on it. Severus smiled, before smirking playfully and ruffling his hair.

"Very well then, Harry. If you insist. And for your information, I was not laughing at you. That merits a guffaw at most and a chuckle at least. Do not flatter yourself." Severus quipped, lounging back as he draped an arm across the back of the sofa. Harry snuggled the man, chuckling himself.

'I could get used to this.'

The two were quiet for some time and Harry was just about to drift off when he remembered something from the conversation earlier.

"Severus?"

"Hmm?" It seemed Severus was about to doze of as well.

"You spied at me through a potion for seven years?" Harry was almost afraid of the answer. 'I know I should be freaked out, but I'm actually touched that he cared enough to want to see me even through a potion.'

"Potions, boy. Potions…" Severus answered groggily, snuggling further with Harry. Harry smiled widely, and then frowned.

"Now that's just unfair!" Harry disentangled himself from Severus' embrace and sat up straight, looking at the man with determined eyes. Severus, with his companion rustling him, blinked himself aware as he too positioned himself properly, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Unfair, Harry? Not revolting, or crazy perhaps?" Severus challenged. Although he appeared merely questioning, Harry could see that Severus both feared and anticipated his answer. Harry chose then chose to tell the truth no matter how sappy he may sound. 'He already knows I'm cheesy. Might as well go through with it all the way.'

"No, what you did was not crazy or revolting. I think it's sweet." Harry ignored Severus' poorly covered comment of "Only you, Potter, can call stalking 'sweet,'" and continued. "But that's beside the point. It's unfair because you know what I was up to these past years and I barely know anything about you. If we're to start going out together, I got to know more about you."

If Severus were drinking a beverage right then he would have spewed it, Harry was sure. So Severus opted on sputtering indignantly while Harry laughed. Severus glared.

"I prefer courting, lovers and having a relationship instead of dating, boyfriends and going out, Potter. Bear that in mind as if you dare speak of it again I will magick your tongue off." Severus mock-threatened. Well, Harry liked to think he was only mocking instead of really pushing through with hexing him if he did so. Harry thought he did not want to test it, and instead back-pedaled to a safety.

"Okay, courting then. Can I court you?" With a warning glance from the other man, Harry decided to back-pedal further. "May I court you?"

Without any hesitation, Severus answered, smiling.

"Yes, you may."

Harry could not help himself from kissing the man breathless in his glee.

* * *

><p>The two could have kept and <em>moved<em> onto more amorous activities if not for the arrival of Dr. Smith and her enthusiastic "Oh my gosh!"

Severus and Harry sprang apart, the latter blushing furiously while the former addressed and greeted her politely.

"Good evening, Greta. I hope this is not too disturbing for you."

"Severus!" Harry was scandalized.

"Oh dear, no! I'm so glad you two got together so fast! Though I hoped I could have played matchmaker a little longer, but no matter! You boys go freshen up while I start on the lasagna we're having for dinner. If you don't need to do anything, your assistance will be greatly appreciated, Severus." The motherly woman said, smiling genially.

"Of course. I would be delighted." Severus replied. With a last peck on the lips, Harry left the room to change clothes and shower.

'Time sure flies. Mom's already home and we're having lasagna! Oh this day couldn't get any better!'

* * *

><p>Harry expected smiling faces and tasty lasagna to be waiting for him when he got down. 'I was only gone for ten minutes, for pete's sake!' He sure was shocked and alarmed at the sight that greeted him.<p>

There were broken dishes all around and burning sauce on the pot by the stove. Chairs were upturned and cabinets were ripped open, with some of the hinges precarious hanging. Severus was crying as he sat on the ground, his face yet again buried beneath his hands, and his mother, thankfully, was unscathed and soothing the distressed man. Harry did not know what to make of it.

Dr. Smith, noticing that Harry was in the room, motioned him to the living room. With a last pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the top of his head, his mother left Severus to converse with him in private.

Her face grave and concerned, Dr. Smith uttered the words Harry least anticipated to hear that night.

"Severus needs therapy, Harry. And soon."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Alright, an update! I'm sure you have noticed that the title of this story changed. I'm sorry if some are confused and would not be able to find this, but this new title is more fitting, don't you think? Also, I know this chapter is sappy, but I wanted to move things along faster and I tried to remedy it with the last part. Any violent reactions with the fast turn of events? Hit me! I look forward to hearing from you, guys! And if any of you have ideas on how therapies go, the knowledge will be greatly appreciated! I bribe you with dedications and cookies. /wink_

_Review?_


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